


Teaspoon :: Shanah Tovah by Hilary

by Periphyton



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Jewish Character, Jewish theology, Judaism, Rosh HaShana | Jewish New Year, The Doctor is a holocaust survivor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 03:24:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20650412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Periphyton/pseuds/Periphyton
Summary: Grieving, lonely, and bored, the Doctor asks the TARDIS to take him somewhere, anywhere, where he can have a bite to eat and someone to talk to.  He doesn't understand why she brings him to an empty beach in England, until he hears something totally out of place and time for the 21st century.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the start of a short series of Doctor Who stories I wrote several years ago, and am moving to AO3. It takes place with Ten, between Martha and Donna. 
> 
> There are so many Jewish subtexts in Doctor Who, both original and NuWho. A wanderer with no permanent home, who survives by his wits against overwhelming foes instead of brute violence. His classic enemies are the definition of Space Nazis - they literally define that trope. Then in NuWho, he is a genocide survivor - a holocaust survivor. And he's the Doctor - how many Jewish doctor jokes are there? Finally, Sydney Newman and Verity Lambert were Jewish. Two English Jews writing in the 1960's about a wandering alien who traveled through Earth but didn't really belong there, battling evil with nothing but his wits and some jerry-rigged science against genocidal foes who belongs to an ancient and complex civilization. MmHmm. Subtext.
> 
> But I'll never get a Doctor Who Hanukkah Special. Or a Jewish companion who has some experience with Holocaust survivors to pick up on what he's been through and make matzo ball soup and banana kugel for him - a companion who *grew up with* the coping mechanism of 'someone tried to kill us, we survived, lets eat.'
> 
> So in the time honored reason for fanfiction to exist, I wrote my own stories about this. I hope you enjoy them.

  
Teaspoon :: Shanah Tovah by Hilary 

Shanah Tovah by Hilary

**Summary:** Grieving, lonely, and bored, the Doctor asks the TARDIS to take him somewhere, anywhere, where he can have a bite to eat and someone to talk to. He doesn't understand why she brings him to an empty beach in England, until he hears something totally out of place and time for the 21st century.  
**Rating:** All Ages  
**Categories:** Tenth Doctor  
**Characters:** Original Companion  
**Genres:** Character Study, General, Humor, Introspection  
**Warnings:** None  
**Challenges:** None  
**Series:** [Six Points and TARDIS Blue: The Doctor's Jewish Companion](http://www.whofic.com/series.php?seriesid=4234)  
**Published: ** 2014.09.11  
**Updated: ** 2014.09.23  


Shanah Tovah by Hilary

This story is the start of my series Six Points and TARDIS Blue, but it can also be read as a standalone meeting between the Doctor and Rachel. �Shanah Tovah� translates as �Good Year� in Hebrew, basically it means Happy New Year.

* * *

  
  
Shanah Tovah — Prologue  
  
The Doctor closed the door of the TARDIS behind him, and collapsed onto the grating. He had just dragged himself through several miles in the rain and mud on a badly twisted knee and cracked ribs to get back here, and had to rest until he could make the final steps to the med room. This last adventure had not been successful: the final body count hadn’t been that bad, considering, but it was still depressing to realize he was leaving a place worse than when he found it. However, at the moment his only concern was for the pain in his knee and ribs to level off enough that he could get to the one room where he could fix it and recover. He’d had worse injuries than this during the Time War, but he was still dizzy with pain. A human would have passed out long ago. Then again, having a human with him would have meant someone to lean on during the endurance trek back to the TARDIS.  
  
A human friend would right about now be fussing over him, helping him make the last distance to the med room, and would probably make some tea and nibbles for him once he got there. Rose would — he stopped that thought immediately, with the same iron control that he used to keep the worst memories of the Time War out of his conscious thoughts. It had been 78 days, 18 hours, and exactly 43 seconds since he had watched Rose Tyler lose her grip on the lever holding open the gate to the void only to be grabbed by the man who wasn’t her father from the other universe before being totally lost.  
  
Finally he realized that he could either limp into the med room by himself, or pass out and go into a healing coma on the floor of the console room. Clinging to the walls for support and swearing in every language across the galaxy, the Doctor staggered into the med room and collapsed on the bed before blacking out and slipping into a healing coma.  
  
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/  
  
It was 17 hours, 42 minutes and 24 seconds before he opened his eyes. His superior Time Lord physiology had done its work repairing broken bones and torn and twisted tendons, but as he carefully flexed his leg he knew it would be several more days before he could walk without pain, let alone run. With a frustrated sigh he resigned himself to being grounded to the TARDIS for his foreseeable future, and limped into the kitchen where he grabbed the first jar of jam he could reach and started eating it without even bothering to check what flavor it was.  
  
The next 2 days, 37 minutes and 13 seconds gave him ample time to ponder everything that had gone wrong. They weren’t human, but still bipedal and vaguely mammalian, and very primitive. He could have figured out what was decimating their crops and bringing them to the point of starvation if he’d just had a little more time, and maybe some help. He was pretty sure it was natural radiation in the sediment below the topsoil — or was it a natural leaching of arsenic contaminating the groundwater? It could have been the soil’s accumulation of saline due to their irrigation practices. But whatever had been causing the crops to fail he hadn’t been able to get past their tribal superstitions and the political maneuvering of several leaders in the priestly caste to get anything done. If Rose had been there, she might have been able to — stop. Stop.  
  
In the 27 days, 6 hours and 17 seconds since he had burnt up a star in a miserable attempt to say goodbye to Rose, the Doctor had thrown himself into every sort of situation possible, one after another with almost no break. As long as he was moving, as long as he could get caught up in somebody else’s problem to solve, as often as he could push himself to the knife’s edge adrenalin rush of danger, he could keep himself from getting trapped in his grief. He was afraid that if he didn’t keep himself moving he would just stay in the TARDIS and never come out. But as amazing as the TARDIS was, after 2 days, 2 hours and 22 seconds trapped there in pain, still grieving, and bored, he would have welcomed any alien species or enemy in the universe just to have something to interact with. Even if a Dalek or a Cyberman showed up they would at least be worth an adrenalin rush of rage and danger.  
  
When he could finally walk without pain, he went to the console room and started to set the controls to randomly go somewhere. “Anywhere,” he told the TARDIS. “Take me anywhere. I don’t care where we land so long as I can meet someone I can talk to and get something to eat. Oh, and my knee isn’t up to running yet, so for once can we avoid a rebellion, plague, invasion, or any other catastrophe that requires saving?”  
  
He could feel the TARDIS’s concern for him. “And if you think to just stay in the vortex for a little longer while this leg gets better, I will start taking apart this entire console one loose wire and circuit at a time.”  
  
The central rotor started to move up and down, and the groaning, wheezing sound of a landing filled the room. It was a remarkably easy landing, barely a tremor as the TARDIS materialized — somewhere.  
  
“Right then, let’s see what you got for me.” He grabbed his coat and shrugged it on as he carefully walked out the TARDIS doors.  
  
The Doctor stopped after two steps, and then turned around to have a word with his timeship. “England? Really? Again? Of all of space and time in the entire universe, I have to keep coming back to 21th century Earth, in England?” There was no other place in the universe he knew as intimately as England at the change of the second millennium of their calendar. The light, the angle of the sun, the smell of the air, the very feel of the gravity under his feet, all of this was instantly familiar.  
  
He looked around. The TARDIS had brought him to an empty beach on the southern edge of England around the middle fall. So much for finding someone to talk to, or something to eat.  
  
Then he heard something that didn’t belong in England around the turn of the 21st century. A blast, like something from a horn made of an animal. There was nothing of worked metal or wood in that sound, but whoever or whatever had made it did so with confidence. A pause, then three shorter blasts. There was another pause, another blast, and then nine staccato blasts that sounded like a keening wail. Yet another blast, then a long, drawn out sound that went on for several breaths until it finally ended in an upturned pitch.  
  
There was pitch and tone in each different blast, and whoever was making them knew what he, she, or it was doing. But there was nothing of modern England in those sounds. Grinning, the Doctor carefully picked his way over to the mystery.  
  
TBC in Shanah Tovah Chapter 1: Meeting and Memory  
  
  


* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=55608>


	2. Teaspoon :: Shanah Tovah by Hilary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grieving, lonely, and bored, the Doctor asks the TARDIS to take him somewhere, anywhere, where he can have a bite to eat and someone to talk to. He doesn't understand why she brings him to an empty beach in England, until he hears something totally out of place and time for the 21st century.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor identifies the source of the anachronism, but then finds himself confronting the memory of loss and grief.
> 
> * * *

  
Teaspoon :: Shanah Tovah by Hilary 

**Summary:** Grieving, lonely, and bored, the Doctor asks the TARDIS to take him somewhere, anywhere, where he can have a bite to eat and someone to talk to. He doesn't understand why she brings him to an empty beach in England, until he hears something totally out of place and time for the 21st century.  
**Rating:** All Ages  
**Categories:** Tenth Doctor  
**Characters:** Original Companion  
**Genres:** Character Study, General, Humor, Introspection  
**Warnings:** None  
**Challenges:** None  
**Series:** [Six Points and TARDIS Blue: The Doctor's Jewish Companion](http://www.whofic.com/series.php?seriesid=4234)  
**Published: ** 2014.09.11  
**Updated: ** 2014.09.23  


Shanah Tovah by Hilary

Chapter 2: Chapter 1: Meeting and Memory

**Author's Notes:** The Doctor identifies the source of the anachronism, but then finds himself confronting the memory of loss and grief.

* * *

  
Personal notes:  
  
Mazur is pronounced MAY-zuhr. I’ve written the Hebrew and Aramaic words phonetically as best I can, but writing Hebrew words in the English alphabet is more of an art than a science. ‘Shanah Tovah’ is the Hebrew equivalent of Happy New Year, and Jews greet each other saying that during the High Holy Days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. A tallit, also called a tallis, is a ritual prayer shawl. The rituals and prayers used here are a traditional part of Reform Judaism.  
  
‘Yahrzeit’ is a Yiddish word meaning year + time, and marks the anniversary of a loved one’s death in Jewish tradition. Zichronam livracha is pronounced zich-ro-NAM liv-rah-CHAH, with that guttural ‘ch’ sound at the back of your throat. It translates variously as ‘may their memory be blessed’ and ‘of blessed memory.’ It’s a memorial term.  
  
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/  
  
_There was pitch and tone in each different blast, and whoever was making them knew what he, she, or it was doing. But there was nothing of modern England in those sounds. Grinning, the Doctor carefully picked his way over to the mystery. _  
  
  
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/  
  
  
The Doctor walked along the beach, mindful of his sore knee, to find the source of the anachronism. It wasn’t long before he turned to a small curved beach and found a woman standing alone at the edge of the ocean, swaying slightly and chanting from a book. He slowly edged toward her and listened, making sure not to disturb her.  
  
She looked human, normal enough height and weight, with fair skin and dark brown hair brushing her shoulders. There was a shopping bag and back pack by her feet, and she was wearing sensible walking boots, blue jeans, and a man’s white oxford shirt. A white fringed shawl with gold, blue, and purple stripes at the ends and embroidery along the top hem draped across her shoulders and an embroidered blue velvet cap was pinned to her hair. The Doctor listened closely: she was chanting in Hebrew, not English, and the embroidery on her shawl was also Hebrew. Something about her voice nagged at him though. There was nothing of the Middle East or Great Britain in her voice, but it wasn’t until she switched to reciting in English that he recognized that she had an American accent. A bog-standard Midwestern American accent, as best he could tell.  
  
He took out the sonic screwdriver and scanned her to see if there was anything else unusual about her. Nothing, no artron energy, no void material, no non-human bio signals, nothing to indicate she didn’t belong in this universe at this time. She just happened to be an American woman standing by herself on a beach in southern England chanting in Hebrew, and for some reason the TARDIS had seen fit to bring him here. He took another step closer, and another, and then yelped when a rock slipped under his bad knee. The woman stopped chanting and looked up at him. She seemed cautious but not hostile.  
  
“Hello,” he said with his widest, most reassuring grin. “Lovely day, isn’t it?” He limped over the rest of the distance between them.  
  
“Yes, it is a nice day. Very lovely. Can I help you with something?” she asked.  
  
“Actually yes you can, so kind of you to ask. What’s the date?”  
  
“What?” She looked at him blankly. He knew that look in human eyes, one that clearly said ‘humor the crazy nutter and hope he’s harmless.’  
  
“What’s the date? What day is it?” he asked again.  
  
“Thursday.”  
  
“I’m sorry; I mean the date, the calendar date and year. I’ve been traveling and I lost track.” He hopped the earnest look and raised eyebrows would keep him in the ‘harmless nutter’ category. It wasn’t like he was lying, anyway.  
  
“Oh, that. It’s the first day of Tishrei, in the year 5754,” she said.  
  
“What?” He blinked. Now it was his turn to hope she wasn’t a nutter. It didn’t feel like an alternate universe, and usually those landings where much rougher on the TARDIS. He knew in his bones this was England, Earth Prime, in the early 21st century. So how could the date be so wrong?  
  
The woman grinned at his confusion and continued. “Also known as September 16th, 2004. It’s Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and I took part of the day off to come to the beach and pray.”  
  
The Doctor glanced for a split second towards the land. Two thousand and four, Rose was alive, eighteen years old and already working at Henriks in London. But no stranger in a leather jacket had yet grabbed her hand and told her to run, and he knew better than to even go there. He immediately brought himself back to the woman in front of him.  
  
“Right! Right, the Jewish New Year, different calendar, praying in Hebrew. And you’re wearing a Jewish star, lapis lazuli and gold, very pretty. Of course that must be a tallit on your shoulders, and a -” there were several different words for what was on her head and he wasn’t sure which one to use.  
  
“Kippah. Also known as a yarmulke, beanie, and skullcap. I’ve another one at home with a little propeller on top,” she said. “What’s your name?”  
  
“Doctor. I’m the Doctor, by the way, nice to meet you. And you are?”  
  
“Rachel Mazur, nice to meet you too.” She held out her hand and shook his firmly. “Doctor what? Medical or academic?”  
  
“Just the Doctor. Not really medical or academic. Well, kind of both. Actually, neither. Well, kind of. Where are you from? You’re American, aren’t you?”  
  
Rachel looked at him, her head slightly tilted and her rather bushy eyebrows quirked together in puzzlement. Then she shrugged. “Actually I’m from Zimbabwe. I just picked up the complexion to go with my accent.”  
  
He just raised one eyebrow, and she started to laugh. “No, wait, other way around, I got the accent to go with my complexion . . . yes, I’m from the United States. I’m from the state of Minnesota, specifically — the Land of Ten Thousand Lakes.” She was obviously very proud of that bit of geological trivia.  
  
“Really, ten thousand lakes? You actually have ten thousand lakes back home?” he asked, not sure if this was to impress him or just being snarky.  
  
“No, it’s more like twelve thousand, but ten thousand is a nice round number for a slogan, and there’s no need to go overboard bragging. About twelve thousand years ago when the glaciers were receding over the North American continent they scraped the hell out of what eventually became Minnesota leaving us with a ton of lakes, including the headwaters of the Mississippi,” she said. “Anyway, I’m almost done with my service - I just have the Aleinu and Mourners Kaddish to go through. I’ve got some food I could share if you want to talk afterwards but I’d like to finish up.”  
  
The Doctor smiled. Nibbles and conversation, why had he ever doubted his beautiful, wonderful timeship for even a double heartbeat? He sat down on a nearby rock as she opened up the maroon bound book in her hands and started swaying again, halfway between chanting and singing. _ “Aleinu l’sha-bei-ach la’don ha’kol, la-tait ge’dulah l’yotzar brei-sheet . . .”_  
  
He listened to her prayer praising God and wondered if she understood the words she was chanting, how much she actually believed, and how much she was just enjoying the simple pleasure of ritual. She had been quick enough giving him straight faced answers to his questions yet seemed to accept him as the Doctor remarkably fast. Either that or she was simply humoring him, but he didn’t think so. Centuries of convincing humans to call him ‘Doctor’ had left him able to tell pretty quickly when they finally accepted him as such. Somewhere between tilting her head and shrugging her shoulders she seemed to accept that he just wanted to be called Doctor and decided to respect that.  
  
Rachel put the book down and picked up one that was almost the same shade of blue as the TARDIS, bound in duct tape along one cover. She opened it to a bookmarked page and started reading.  
  
“A Philosophy of Life and Death:  
  
Judaism teaches us to understand death as a part of the Divine pattern of the universe. Actually, we could not have our sensitivity without our fragility. Mortality is the tax we pay for the privilege of love, thought, creative work — the toll on the bridge of being from which the clods of the earth and snow-peaked mountain summits are exempt. Just because we are human, we are prisoners of the years. Yet that very prison is the room of discipline in which we, driven by the urgency of time, create.”  
  
The Doctor stiffened slightly. Humans might look for a ‘Divine pattern of the universe’ but as the last remaining Time Lord he knew better. But that last bit, about being driven by the urgency of time to create — that was true. His people had wasted several millennia of existence with sterile observation and static decay because they had believed they had all the time in existence, whereas humans driven to fulfil their dreams in a scant handful of decades would fill the universe. He listened as Rachel continued.  
  
“The Blessing of Memory:  
  
“It is hard to sing of oneness when our world is not yet complete, when those who once brought wholeness to our lives have gone, and naught but memory can fill the emptiness their passing leaves behind.  
  
“But memory can tell us only what we were, in company with those we loved; it cannot help us find what each of us, alone, must now become. Yet no one is really alone; those who live no more, echo still within our thoughts and words, and what they did is part of what we have become.  
  
“We do best homage to our dead when we live our lives most fully, even in the shadow of our loss. For each of our lives is worth the life of the whole world; in each one is the breath of the Ultimate One. In affirming the One, we affirm the worth of each one whose life, now ended, brought us closer to the Source of life, in whose unity no one is alone and every life finds purpose.”  
  
She looked up from her book, and continued. “At the start of this New Year I remember my father’s parents and my godmother, survivors of the Shoah who rebuilt their lives after their world was burnt and shattered by hate, and all people both Jewish and not whose lives were destroyed by the hatred and madness of the Holocaust. I remember my cousin who’s Yahrzeit this is, who died in the attack on our country on September 11, 2001. I remember my former brother in law, who died defending our nation in Afghanistan trying to end the terrorism that enslaves both nations in fear. And I honor all people, of all races, nations, and times, whose lives have been a blessing to humanity, and all those whose lives have been lost to wars beyond their control or understanding. _ Zichronam livrachah, _ may their memory be a blessing.”  
  
The Doctor could not take his eyes off of Rachel as she remembered those she had lost and honored the loss of others. How could he have doubted that the TARDIS would bring him to exactly where she thought he needed to be, he thought with wry irony. He had skipped out of every memorial for those lost at Canary Wharf, because Rose wasn’t dead. She was alive, she was so alive with her parents in Pete’s World, and he knew she would create a fantastic life for herself there. But meanwhile he was here: on a brisk beach in England listening to an American Jewish woman go through a short memorial service for the people she had lost in her life.  
  
Rachel closed her book and put it down, and facing the ocean started to recite the Mourners Kaddish from memory. _ “Yit-ga-dal v’yit-ka’dash sh’mei ra-ba, be-al-ma d’verah chi-ru-tei v’yam-lich mal-chu-tei . . .” _  
  
He listened to her chant the ancient Aramaic words of the Kaddish by rote and carefully kept his mind focused on what was in front of him rather than feel the loss of all the lives that he had touched which were now over. When she was done chanting she switched back to English.  
  
“May the one who brings peace on high bring peace to the world, and peace to all who mourn, amen.” Then she started to sing in Hebrew, a plaintive, eerie melody that expressed both sadness and hope for the peace repeatedly mentioned in it. _ “Oseh shalom bimromav, hu’ya-aseh shalom aleinu, v’al-kol Yisrael, v’imru, v’imru amen. Ya-aseh shalom, ya-aseh shalom, shalom aleinu v’al-kol Yisrael. Ya-aseh shalom, ya-aseh shalom, shalom aleinu v’al-kol Yisrael.” _  
  
Her alto voice carried the minor key of the melody well and harmonized with the waves on the shore. The Doctor had nothing to do with the human, tribal God in her prayer books but the short ritual of grief and memory — one that had nothing to do with his own losses - was still soothing, like lemon and honey on a sore throat. He alone could remember Gallifrey, but humans with their short mayfly lives made so many rituals to remember each other that no matter how they died or how short their lives were they would not be forgotten. Those who would die because of Torchwood, Cybermen, and the Daleks would not be forgotten even though that event had not yet happened in Earths time line.  
  
When Rachel finished singing she reached into the grocery bag and took out a curved, polished ram’s horn the length of her forearm, put it to her lips and blew a long, drawn out blast. The Doctor forced back the melancholy brought on by memory and listened again to the sound that had alerted him to her presence. It was a shofar, he recognized, and while it was anachronistic to 21st century England it was still an authentic part of Jewish ritual after thousands of years.  
  
Rachel ended the shofar blast on a sharp upturned note, and took a moment to catch her breath. She tucked it into her back pack, took off her tallit and neatly folded it and put it and her prayer books away, and then picked up the grocery bag.  
  
“So, munchies?” she said, nodding to the Doctor.  
  
He grinned. “I’d love it.”  
  
TBC in Shanah Tovah, Chapter 2: Munchies, Bananas, God, and Ghosts  
  
//-//-//-//-//-//-//  
  
References:  
  
Gates of Repentance New Union Prayerbook for the Days of Awe  
Published by the Central Conference of American Rabbis  
New York 1978/5738, revised 1996. (Rachel’s maroon prayer book for Rosh Hashanah)  
  
Gates of Prayer New Union Prayerbook.  
Published by the Central Conference of American Rabbis  
New York 1975/5735 (Rachel’s blue prayer book held together with duct tape)  
  
  
  
  


* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=55608>


	3. Teaspoon :: Shanah Tovah by Hilary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grieving, lonely, and bored, the Doctor asks the TARDIS to take him somewhere, anywhere, where he can have a bite to eat and someone to talk to. He doesn't understand why she brings him to an empty beach in England, until he hears something totally out of place and time for the 21st century.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rachel and the Doctor share a meal, and discuss theology.
> 
> * * *

  
Teaspoon :: Shanah Tovah by Hilary 

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Shanah Tovah by Hilary

**Summary:** Grieving, lonely, and bored, the Doctor asks the TARDIS to take him somewhere, anywhere, where he can have a bite to eat and someone to talk to. He doesn't understand why she brings him to an empty beach in England, until he hears something totally out of place and time for the 21st century.  
**Rating:** All Ages  
**Categories:** Tenth Doctor  
**Characters:** Original Companion  
**Genres:** Character Study, General, Humor, Introspection  
**Warnings:** None  
**Challenges:** None  
**Series:** [Six Points and TARDIS Blue: The Doctor's Jewish Companion](http://www.whofic.com/series.php?seriesid=4234)  
**Published: ** 2014.09.11  
**Updated: ** 2014.09.23  


Shanah Tovah by Hilary

Chapter 3: Chapter 2: Bananas, Munchies, God, and Ghosts

**Author's Notes:** Rachel and the Doctor share a meal, and discuss theology.

* * *

  
Personal Note: I don’t own the Doctor or his world; I’m just enjoying adding a new character to it via fan fiction. The song that Rachel sings is a modified version of two verses from the Indigo Girls song ‘Ghost.’ She changes the lyrics to reflect her own emotional issues and personal experience of walking across the Mississippi River at Lake Itasca. All of her prayers and rituals are traditional for Reform Judaism; however her theology is her own.  
  
Tashlich is pronounced tash-leekh, and it really does involve throwing bread into open water to symbolically cast away your sins from the past year. Shanah Tovah means Happy New Year in Hebrew.  
  
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/  
  
_ Rachel ended the shofar blast on a sharp upturned note, and took a moment to catch her breath. She tucked it into her back pack, took off her tallit and neatly folded it and put it and her prayer books away, and then picked up the grocery bag._  
  
“So, munchies?” she said, nodding to the Doctor.  
  
He grinned. “I’d love it.”  
  
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/  
  
Rachel had a flask of water, a round loaf of braided raisin bread, a jar of honey, two apples, a handful of dates and almonds, a small chunk of cheddar cheese, olives, and one banana. The Doctor eyed it wistfully. He felt like he could use a banana but there was only one and it would be rude to just grab it. Before he could calculate whether or not he could pull off being ‘rude and not ginger,’ just grab the banana and still be welcomed to share the rest of the food, Rachel picked up the bread and held it up.  
  
_ “Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha’olam, ha’motzi lechem min ha’aretz. _ Blessed are you, Eternal our God, creator of the universe, for bringing forth bread from the earth,” Rachel said, rattling off the prayer with a quick cadence. Then she held it out to the Doctor. “Here, we break bread together and then we can eat.”  
  
They pulled at the round loaf of challah at the same time and enjoyed a mouthful of rich, sweet egg bread. Breaking bread was one of those traditions that transcended much of human culture as a way to form fellowship, and he appreciated sharing it with Rachel. She was already dividing up the food equally even though it was a bit skimpy for two people.  
  
“Do you like bananas?” she asked  
  
“I love bananas. They’re an excellent source of potassium, and originally cultivated in Papua New Guinea about 7,000 years ago. Do you always pray before you eat?” he asked.  
  
“Not usually, but this is holiday meal, even if it is just a picnic. Bananas fibers also make really nice yarn, and it’s even used in Japan for making kimonos. Here you go.” She peeled the banana and broke it in half, and handed him a piece. He accepted it and took a bite, savoring not only the rich texture and flavor but also the simple gift of her caring enough to ask and share with him.  
  
“Apples and honey are traditional for Rosh Hashanah,” she explained as she cut the apples up, “for a sweet new year. I’ve only one flask of water, but you can have the lid, I can drink from it straight.” After cutting the apples she handed him the cup shaped lid with water in it.  
  
“So Rachel, what are you doing here praying by yourself, shouldn’t you be at a synagogue, or aren’t there any nearby?” He asked as they started to eat. As much as he could really gob on in this regeneration he could also listen, and listening to the stories that wove together the tapestry of human life always fascinated him. He had a feeling Rachel’s story was one worth listening to.  
  
“Actually, there are three synagogues over in Bristol, that’s nearby, and some in Surrey as well. I’m studying for a Master’s degree in ecology at the Royal Holloway University in Surrey, and came here on a field trip on coastal botany. I stayed afterwards to celebrate Rosh Hashanah on my own. I just wanted some time by myself to pray and think, and not surrounded by strangers who all knew each other but not me.” She dipped a piece of apple in the honey, ate it and took a sip of water.  
  
“I’m sorry, if you wanted to be alone I could leave, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” he said, although he didn’t really want to leave and go back to an empty TARDIS.  
  
“No, that’s ok, I don’t mind your company. I’d rather be alone by myself then lonely in a crowd, but sometimes it’s nice to have one person to talk to instead of being surrounded by strangers.” Rachel said, and smiled at him.  
  
The Doctor smiled back at her - not his usual manic grin but a rueful smile of recognition. He knew exactly the type of loneliness she described and was glad that, for a little while at least, his company might make her a little less lonely.  
  
“So what about you?” she asked. “Are you from around here?”  
  
“Well, I suppose you could say I’m from around here, in a fairly roundabout way,” the Doctor said. Not that he was from Earth, but there wasn’t any other planet he was as connected to as this one, and of all places on it he had spent the most time in England. Besides, compared to Rachel’s American accent he sounded fairly British. “Where’d you learn about banana yarn?”  
  
“I’ve seen it in craft stores, and I’ve studied botany. It’s interesting what you said about bananas first being cultivated in Papua New Guinea, and when you consider all the different places these plants evolved from . . .”  
  
The Doctor listened to her explain the evolutionary history of how apples, olives, dates, and almonds all ended up on the same plate. It was amusing to hear a human lecturing him on science, but at least she was accurate. He was licking the honey off his fingers when she pulled a bag of stale bread out of the grocery bag, and walked over the edge of the shore.  
  
“There’s one more part of this, called tashlich, which is symbolically casting your sins out into the water, to make a fresh start for the New Year. It’s fun, a chance to clean out any old bread and throw things into the water, and reflect on what happened last year and what can be worked on this year.” She looked out over the ocean, and her face was a lot more serious than her description of this as ‘fun.’ Slowly she threw one piece of bread at a time at the waves, and while she said nothing the Doctor could see that she was taking the reflections of past actions seriously.  
  
“Do you believe in this?” he asked when she was done. “Do believe in these prayers, that throwing bread into the ocean will work?”  
  
“Define ‘believe in,’ and define what you mean by ‘work,’ ” she said. “Are you asking if I believe in God, or is this a pitch for Jesus?”  
  
“No! No no no no no, I’m not asking you to change what you believe, I’m just curious, what do you believe, Rachel?” he hoped he hadn’t offended her, because for the first time she looked slightly defensive.  
  
She studied him for a few seconds, her eyes a murky shade of olive that wasn’t quite brown or green but wasn’t really hazel either, then came back over to where he was and sat beside him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to jump down your throat but I’ve had enough run-ins with both Christians and atheists to be careful. Personally I don’t care what other people believe so long as they aren’t assholes about it, but my beliefs are my own and I don’t like being proselytized or ridiculed for them either.”  
  
The Doctor said nothing, he simply waited while she picked up a handful of sand and let it fall through her fingers. “Sometimes I believe in God,” she finally said. “Sometimes more, sometimes less. Sometimes I really do feel that there is more to life than what can be scientifically measured, sometimes I’m not sure. I love studying science, ecology, evolutionary biology, entomology, although after eight years doing protein purification for a biotech company I’m really sick of protein biochemistry. But being Jewish is important to me regardless of how much I believe in God. What about you? What do you believe in, Doctor?”  
  
The Doctor rocked backwards a little bit and shifted position. That was not a question many people asked him. He had seen different religions across different species and the multitudes of various religious beliefs among humans, not to mention meeting the Devil at Krop Tor, but the last remaining Time Lord did not have any cause to appeal to superstitions about some Divine plan. He remembered what he had told the cat nuns on New New York when he and Rose had learned about their experiments on human lab rats, _ ‘There is no higher authority.’ _ But what did he believe in? It was one thing to say to the Beast that above all else he believed in Rose, but she was gone. With Rose forever trapped in an alternate universe beyond his reach, what did he believe in to make his continued existence worth it?  
  
He realized that he had been quiet too long to make some smart remark and turn the question aside without looking like a fool. And besides, it was not like he would ever see Rachel again. This was nothing more than a random meeting, a one-off chance to talk and eat. He was not bringing her into the TARDIS; as much as Donna had told him to find somebody he knew he wasn’t ready to find room his hearts for another human companion. So he had nothing to lose by taking Rachel’s question seriously or taking advantage of having someone willing to listen to whatever he might say.  
  
The Doctor looked out at the sky as the sun lowered towards the horizon and felt the shift of the ocean tides, the spinning of the planet rotating around its poles, around the sun, around the slow twirling of the Milky Way. He felt time, moving from possibility to possibility, moment connecting to moment back and forth with almost infinite connections, fixed points like outcroppings of islands in a restless ocean. He felt the universe itself, across the vast reaches of space, planets, and galaxies, clusters of galaxies, filled with life and continually expanding. It was a universe that carried the scars of the Time War, but a universe that still existed.  
  
He turned back to Rachel with the depth of time in his brown eyes. “I believe in the Universe,” he said. “I believe in Time, how it connects all things through space, moment by moment. That all things connect, and all things have meaning.”  
  
Rachel shivered a little, but nodded. “I like that,” she said. “The universe is a good thing to believe in since it certainly exists, and on a much, much smaller scale,” she gestured with her hands, “that’s how I feel about my prayers. They connect me through time with my people. The words of the Kaddish go back at least two thousand years, and have been recited in memory of loved ones death I think at least as far back as the Crusades. I say Kaddish to remember my father’s parents, just as my grandfather said it to remember his family, he was the only survivor. His grandfather said it to remember his ancestors, all the way back. And who knows, maybe into the future we’ll still say it for another thousand years if we survive.  
  
“And the rituals connect me through space as well. Blowing the shofar, throwing bread on the water, they go back through time but also through space. Even if I’m just doing this here by myself, or with a stranger in a sharp suit who randomly showed up,” she grinned at him, “I’m still connected to all the other Jews on the planet who are also doing this on the first day of Tishrei. Growing up back home in Minnesota we’d go down to Hidden Falls Park on the Mississippi, blow the shofar and cast our bread into the river. And it’s all connected, not just by words and actions but also through the planet itself because all water is connected. Just like you said about each moment in time connecting, all the water of the earth connects all the way from the atmosphere to the depths of groundwater.”  
  
The Doctor was impressed that she tried to follow what he meant on a scale she could understand. “You’re right,” he said. “All water is connected, from this beach, across the Channel and the Atlantic Ocean and into the Caribbean, through the Mississippi River Delta and all the way back up to the river’s headwaters, connecting both this beach and your park, each molecule of water forming bonds with the others around it.”  
  
“Exactly!” Rachel said. “That’s exactly it!” Then she smiled and sang,  
  
“The Mississippi’s mighty, and it starts in Minnesota,  
At Lake Itasca where I have walked across with twelve steps down.”  
  
She stopped, and looked out over the ocean, no longer smiling but looking pensive and unsure she continued to sing slowly.  
  
“And I guess that’s how she started, like a pin prick to my heart.  
But at this point she goes right through me and I start to drown.  
And there’s not enough room in my world for this pain.  
Our signals crossed, our love got lost, and past lies make it plain:  
With all her demon spirits, does she need me the most?  
Or am I in love with her ghost?  
Am I in love with her ghost?”  
  
The Doctor looked at the woman sitting beside him, noticing the silver streaking her hair over her left eye and the pinched anxiety in her face as she watched the ocean’s waves. “Are you?” he asked. “Are you in love with a ghost?”  
  
TBC in Shanah Tovah Chapter 3: In love with a Ghost.  
  
  
  


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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=55608>


	4. Teaspoon :: Shanah Tovah by Hilary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grieving, lonely, and bored, the Doctor asks the TARDIS to take him somewhere, anywhere, where he can have a bite to eat and someone to talk to. He doesn't understand why she brings him to an empty beach in England, until he hears something totally out of place and time for the 21st century.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rachel has more to think about then just the New Year, and she might as well take advantage of a sympathetic stranger to get some perspective on a difficult relationship.
> 
> * * *

  
Teaspoon :: Shanah Tovah by Hilary 

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Shanah Tovah by Hilary

**Summary:** Grieving, lonely, and bored, the Doctor asks the TARDIS to take him somewhere, anywhere, where he can have a bite to eat and someone to talk to. He doesn't understand why she brings him to an empty beach in England, until he hears something totally out of place and time for the 21st century.  
**Rating:** All Ages  
**Categories:** Tenth Doctor  
**Characters:** Original Companion  
**Genres:** Character Study, General, Humor, Introspection  
**Warnings:** None  
**Challenges:** None  
**Series:** [Six Points and TARDIS Blue: The Doctor's Jewish Companion](http://www.whofic.com/series.php?seriesid=4234)  
**Published: ** 2014.09.11  
**Updated: ** 2014.09.23  


Shanah Tovah by Hilary

Chapter 4: Chapter 3: In love with a ghost

**Author's Notes:** Rachel has more to think about then just the New Year, and she might as well take advantage of a sympathetic stranger to get some perspective on a difficult relationship.

* * *

  
Chapter 3: In love with a Ghost  
  
Personal Note: The dinosaurs mentioned in this chapter are real dinosaurs that did exist millions of years ago. A mezuzah is a small rectangular box that contains a scroll with a prayer written on it and it’s traditional for Jews to put one up at the doorways of their houses, or dorm rooms for college students. Shabbat services = Sabbath services. Hillel was a famous 1st century Jewish leader and teacher, and still a much loved and quoted figure today.  
  
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/  
  
_ The Doctor looked at the woman sitting beside him, noticing the silver streaking her hair over her left eye and the pinched anxiety in her face as she watched the ocean’s waves. “Are you?” he asked. ‘Are you in love with a ghost?” _  
  
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/  
  
“I don’t know,” Rachel said uncertainly. “I don’t know if it’s still love, or if it ever was love. Or if I’m in love with the ghost of what I think she should be or what I hope is the real her, and I think technically that’s called infatuation, not love.” She glanced over at the Doctor, carefully watching how he reacted to the pronoun. But he just nodded encouragingly. So far he had been polite and friendly if a bit odd, so she decided to continue. Besides, it wasn’t like she was ever going to meet this random stranger again, so there was no harm in talking to him for some perspective. If he started to give her any bullshit about being with a woman, her rented car was just up the bluff from the shore and she could always get up and leave.  
  
Instead he just sat there watching her with those dark brown eyes while the wind made a tangle of that hair. “So, your ghost is a real person then?” he asked.  
  
“Yes. Her name’s Danit Weisman, she’s from Israel. We met last fall. I’d just started my Masters in Ecology and she was in her second year studying theater in the Drama department. Actually, we didn’t meet at the school but at temple. We were both there for Shabbat evening services and went out for coffee afterwards.” Rachel smiled remembering their first meeting, exchanging glances during the service, meeting up afterwards, and then staying out half the night drinking coffee and talking - which had quickly turned into flirting.  
  
“She was so funny, and wanted to try anything new. The very fact that she hadn’t been somewhere or done something was the perfect excuse to go after it. She couldn’t stand the thought of doing the same thing twice. And she was one of the few people who really understood why I left Amanda.” Rachel stopped and swallowed at the ache in her throat, aware that she was twisting her hands together and rubbing the empty spot on the ring finger of her left hand.  
  
“And Amanda is . . . ?” he asked gently.  
  
“My ex.” Rachel sighed. “Ten years, we met in college getting our bachelors. I got a biology major and a chemistry minor, she studied history and philosophy. I’m sorry, this is really boring. If you have somewhere else to go that’s fine and I need to get back soon, drive back to Surry and get ready for classes tomorrow.” She got up and started to pick up the makeshift picnic.  
  
The Doctor stood up as well. “You are not boring Rachel,” he said immediately. “I don’t have anywhere else to go, and I don’t think you are at all boring. I’ll listen if you want to talk.”  
  
Rachel continued to pack up and considered. She hadn’t missed how sad he had looked while she said the Mourners Kaddish, or his eyes when he told her he believed in the universe. As for not giving her a proper name, she knew plenty of people who had chosen names for themselves and if he wanted to call himself ‘Doctor’ it was an easy enough thing to respect. He had caught on to her being snarky when they met and was amused instead of offended, listened to her finish her service without interrupting, and had truly listened to her when they talked and ate.  
  
There was not even the slightest twitch on his part when she used a female pronoun for a relationship. While she couldn’t pick up if he was gay or straight, he was polite and gave every indication of understanding and taking it seriously. Besides, given how badly he was limping she could probably knock him over and outrun him if she had to.  
  
“Sure, why not. We could walk if you like,” she said.  
  
“Alright - just as long as there is no running involved. I twisted my knee a few days ago and I’m not up to running for my life yet if some alien shows up or a plesiosaurus rises from the depths of the ocean,” the Doctor said.  
  
Rachel smiled a little at that. “If a plesiosaurus showed up that would be really cool, but all we’d have to do is scramble up away from the beach. It’d be a lot worse if a pterosaur showed up out of the sky; that would probably involve some running.”  
  
“A great big flying predator, roughly the size of a giant condor? That would definitely involve some running,” he said as they started to walk along the beach. “Mind you, not all were the giant quetzalcoatlus, the shenzhoupterus and germandactylus where much smaller. Although ‘smaller’ is still a relative term compared to the largest flying creature to ever exist on this planet - a good sized quetzalcoatlus could reach up to almost eleven meters across at the wingtips. You’re right, I’d rather not run from one of those. Was Amanda someone you had to run from?”  
  
Rachel caught her foot on a piece of driftwood and stumbled slightly. “No, I didn’t have to run from her, I just wanted somewhere new to start over. It wasn’t that I didn’t love her or that she cheated on me, but things happened and she just —stopped. She stopped doing anything other than barely keeping her job and our house together. Everybody thought it was wrong of me to leave her when she was so depressed and needed me, but . . .” she shrugged, and was grateful that walking gave her some way to keep her body in motion as she searched for the right words to explain why she had left a woman she had once fought so hard to be with.  
  
“She wouldn’t get any help, or go out, or do anything and I don’t want to stop yet. I finally realized that I couldn’t breathe anymore so when I had the chance I applied to the Royal Holloway University to study. After all,” she said with a wry smile, “I liked listening to the Beatles and watching Monty Python’s Flying Circus when I was a kid, so if I was going to make a new start in life, I might as well try it across the pond. So I came here last year, got a new mezuzah and started classes.  
  
“At first meeting Danit was wonderful. She made me feel alive in a way I hadn’t for years. And she understood things about me that Amanda just didn’t get no matter how much she tried,” Rachel said, her hands adding extra emphasis to the conversation. “Danit and I are both the grandchildren of Holocaust survivors: my father’s parents and both of her grandmothers are survivors. Amanda was raised Presbyterian and her family had been in the US for five generations. It wasn’t that Amanda didn’t try to understand — she loved coming to temple with me and thought Judaism was great. But it’s just not the same when you didn’t grow up in that shadow, even one generation removed. It’s not the same as growing up with the ghosts of everybody who should there but wasn’t because of the camps.”  
  
“No, I suppose it isn’t,” the Doctor said quietly. “When you said that you were in love with her ghost, is that what you meant: the ghost of everything you want Danit to be?”  
  
“I suppose,” Rachel said, then sighed and kicked a small rock down the beach. “It wasn’t so bad last year, because I could tell her I had to study although my grades were barely high enough for me to keep my scholarships. But that is my fault, not hers. No matter what she does it’s still my responsibility to get my work done.  
  
“So on the one hand, she understands where I’m coming from, being a lesbian Jew and granddaughter of survivors, she’s funny, and she’s always trying something new instead of getting stuck. She made me laugh and welcomed me when I was alone in a new country, and paid attention to what I liked and made me feel alive again.” Rachel ticked off each point on her fingers.  
  
“But on the other hand, this summer’s been terrible,” she said, switching hands. “I never know what I’m saying that makes her so mad, or she’ll say something and I don’t say the right thing back, or use the right tone of voice, or whatever, and she stops talking to me. And she just doesn’t understand that I need time to myself no matter how much I love her. I came to the beach for Rosh Hashanah because I couldn’t stand the thought of being in a crowd or standing next to her trying to pray.” She kicked at another rock to get it out of her way. The sun was almost touching the horizon and the sky was filling up with the colors of sunset.  
  
“We should turn back,” she said. “It’ll get dark soon, and you’re limping.”  
  
“Nah, don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I’m always fine.” The Doctor said, and grinned at her. “Nothing to worry about here.”  
  
She just snorted. “Yeah, right. You’re still limping. You should put your foot up when you get home, and put some ice on that knee and rest.”  
  
“Yes mum,” he said, and quirked up his eyebrows at her. Rachel could tell he was joking but he also seemed touched that she had noticed. She had been careful to match her pace to his and not walk too fast for someone on a sore knee.  
  
“What are you going to do this year?” he asked her after a few minutes of walking quietly and watching the changing sky. “On the one hand she was nice to you and made you feel alive, but on the other hand she’s controlling your time and your emotions, and you don’t want to pray with her. Your classes have already started, so what are you going to do to make sure you keep your scholarship?”  
  
Rachel swallowed hard against the lump in her throat when the Doctor said Danit was controlling her. She knew that the only person she could control in a relationship was herself; no matter what Danit did Rachel was the only one responsible for her own actions.  
  
“Ultimately, it’s my responsibility to make sure I get my schoolwork done,” she said. “As Rabbi Hillel said, ‘Do not say, when I find time I will study. Time is never found, only made.’ I just need to talk to her. Either she understands how important this is to me and supports me getting my degree, or she doesn’t. If she does we can work something out, and if she doesn’t then I’ll leave her. One thing for sure, Doctor, is that I am selfish enough to take care of myself. I’ve already left one woman I loved for ten years rather than be trapped, and I can do it again if I have to!” Rachel could hear her voice rising in volume as she defended her right to be selfish enough to leave someone in pursuit of an academic dream. She forced herself to stop and take a deep breath, and felt it catch in her throat.  
  
They were almost back to the starting point, near where Rachel’s rental car was parked when the Doctor spoke. “Rachel, would you stay with Danit if you did not have classes, and she cannot, or will not, change?”  
  
Rachel’s hands clenched into fists before she could even respond to him. Then she calmed down and forced herself to think logically about her relationship. There were still good points to Danit, even if this summer had had more than its share of miscommunication. “Whatever happens I am going to get my degree. I’d like to get it with her, but I can get it without her if I have to.”  
  
She relaxed her hands and turned to face the man she’d shared the evening with. “I really need to get going, but it was nice meeting you. Thanks for listening - I hope this wasn’t too boring.”  
  
“Noooo, no, not at all. You are not boring, Rachel,” he said again. “You go get that degree, I’m sure you’ll be brilliant at it. It was lovely meeting you and sharing your service,” he held out his hand.  
  
She took it and smiled. “Thanks. Shanah Tovah Doctor, Happy New Year. May the New Year be a good year for you, and may you be inscribed for a blessing in the book of life.”  
  
“Shanah Tovah Rachel Mazur. May this year be a good year for you as well.” The last light of the sunset caught in his eyes, illuminating them up against the growing dusk.  
  
She slung the back pack over her shoulders and picked up the grocery bag, and then scrambled up the bluff to the car park. Rachel had a plan for her life, and Danit could either join it, or not.  
  
TBC in Shanah Tovah, Epilogue  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=55608>


End file.
